


A Raven from Highgarden

by irismoon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irismoon/pseuds/irismoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa recieves an offer for her hand from Highgarden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure how i feel about this story. It is the newest thing I have written. Rewrote it from scratch the other night and I had never come up with an ending for it. Kinda tacked this ending on, just for the sake of not leaving it unfinished. I still have no idea how to end it, so I decided to leave it as it. If i come up with something better later, I might redo this whole thing.

Sandor 

 

Sandor Clegane stood silently behind Lord Bran Stark of Winterfell as he counseled with his men. He was bored, but the years he spent in service to the Lannisters conditioned him well. He was used to being the quiet guard, being able to blend into the background, while still being a strong guarding presence. 

The Maester arrived along with Lady Sansa. His eyes followed her as she approached the table and took her seat. She was more beautiful every day and he burned with desire for her. After he had helped rescue her from the clutches of Littlefinger in the Vale, he escorted her North, and helped lead her people to reclaim Winterfell. Upon Bran and Rickons return, he was named Captain of Winterfells Guard. 

He was happier than he could have imagined at Winterfell. Serving the Starks was much like serving the Lannisters. Only here he was treated with more respect. He was asked to do more honorable tasks, such as helping train the young boys, instead of hunting and killing them. He grew to love the crisp winter air, and the smell of fresh wood with all the rebuilding of the castle. He was oddly fond of wild Rickon, who followed him around the training yard. Bran was a wise and kind ruler of the North. And of course, there was Sansa. Looking like the Maiden herself. She had come back to life once they reached her home. She no longer cowered and cried, but instead smiled, and laughed. She was more beautiful than he could ever have imagined in his dreams. 

He was brought out of his thoughts, when he heard the Maester speak. "A raven my Lord. It just arrived." he handed the paper to Bran. He read it quickly then smiled at Sansa. 

"Another offer for your hand, Sansa." 

Sansa simply sighed, not even bothering to look up from the book she was reading. "My answer is always the same Bran." 

"I understand Sansa. I promised that you would not have to marry against your wishes. This request just seems different." when she looked at him with her eyebrows raised, he smiled. "It is from Highgarden, from Willas Tyrell. And its addressed directly to you." 

Sandor saw her eyes grow wide. She reached across the table and took the letter reading it shaking her head slowly. After a moment she folded the paper and rose from her seat. Without a word, she left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Sandor stepped out of the castle in search of Lady Sansa. She had not attended dinner, and her maids could not locate her. He was not worried, he knew he would find her in the Godswood. She always went there when she was troubled. Usually she asked him to walk with her. The fact that she had not wanted him with her tonight weighed heavy on his heart. 

She was sitting against the heart tree, staring at the pond. The damned letter from Highgarden on her lap. She glanced up when he approached. 

"You were missed at dinner Little Bird." he rasped. 

She hung her head and fingered the paper in her lap. "Forgive me, I was lost in my thoughts I suppose." 

He had known someday she would marry again. He had been dreading the day. Willas Tyrell was the kind of man he imagined she desired. He was kind and handsome. Wealthy and powerful. His only downfall was his bad leg. His little bird deserved a good man, and one had finally asked for her hand. He sat down next to her and stretched his legs out. 

She surprised him then, by resting her head on his arm. He looked down at her, and saw tears on her face. "Why are you crying, Little Bird?" 

"I have just been thinking about this letter from Highgarden." she said softly, her delicate hands playing with the paper. 

"Well you were bound to get a decent offer eventually. He may not be one of the knights from your songs, but he is quite a comely Lord." Sandor smirked. 

She pushed away and glared at him. She took the letter and threw it at his chest. "A decent offer! This is what you think I want! This offer is a jest! An insult!" 

He took the paper and read it quickly, Shaking his head in confusion. It seemed to be a standard offer of courtship to him. 

She stood up and began to pace. "I have been so foolish." she mumbled starting to cry again in earnest. 

Standing he approached her and before he could say a word, she turned and threw herself into his arms. He held her close, rubbing her arms to try and stop her from trembling. "Hush now girl. What is it about this offer that has you so upset." 

She looked up at him with her tear filled eyes. "I was promised to Willas once before." she whispered. 

She pulled away from him and walked a few steps to place her hand on the heart tree. "It was after you left Kings Landing. Margaery and Lady Oleana told me they would take me to Highgarden and I could marry Willas. Ser Dontos told me they only wanted my claim to Winterfell, but I did not care. I wanted away from Kings Landing and Joffrey so bad. I imagined that he would be as handsome as Ser Loras, and I would try to make him love me. I dreamed he would find me so beautiful that he would not care about Winterfell." she laughed then, a harsh bitter laugh. "What a stupid fool I was." 

She turned to look at him. "The Lannisters found out. That is why they arranged for my marriage to Tyrion. To keep me under their control." 

Sandor did not know what to say. He wanted to take her in his arms again, protect her from the world. The old familiar guilt he felt for leaving her in the lions den hit him like a sword to the gut. 

"Your a free woman now my Lady. No one controls you. Your free to make your own choices. Your probably the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms, so I am sure Willas Tyrell will be enchanted by you, I would not worry." 

"You think I mean to accept his offer." she gasped staring at him. "Did you read this?" she walked toward him and ripped the letter out of his hands. Reading aloud she said "I believe I have come to love you from afar." she said mockingly before ripping the paper and throwing it down. "The exact same words that Margaery spoke to Joffrey when he chose to set aside our betrothal. They played games with me in Kings Landing and now they expect me to play again!" 

"I do not understand." he questioned. "This is not the first offer you have had, not even the first insulting offer. It certainly will not be the last. Why all the tears over the stupid cripple." 

"I am not crying about that." she said, her hands wiping furiously at the tears in her eyes. "I am crying for the loss of my dreams. For that foolish girl I was, who believed that some day I would find a man that would love only me. Me and not Winterfell, not the Stark name, not control of the North. I guess I have just come to realize, that no one will ever just love me, simply for being Sansa." 

They stood there in silence for a long time, Sandor looking at her. The minutes passed slowly away, while he tried to find the courage and the words to tell her. 

"Little Bird. I've never..." He began slowly. "not since I was a boy, before I was burned... I never thought that I would have a wife. If I would ever allow myself to dare to dream, then the only woman would be you. And not because of Winterfell or to rule the bloody north. I have never loved anyone, and I am not sure I even know how. If I had to name what I feel for you, then I suppose I would have to call it love. I know I am little better than a dog, but for what its worth, I am a man who loves you just for being Sansa." 

She looked at him with wide eyes. He reached forward and brushed a tear off her cheek. She grasped his hand and kissed his palm. 

"Sandor" she said his name softly, barely more than a whisper. "Would you marry me?" 

He barked out a laugh and turned away from her. "A dog does not get to marry the Princess." 

"Why not?" she said wrapping her arms around him laying her head against his back. "I have dreamed about you for years. Every night while I was in the Vale. I hated myself for not leaving Kings Landing with you. I compared every man I met to you and none measured up." 

He laughed. "You were with some miserable company. Pathetic men that you would prefer the company of an old scarred dog." 

"Do not refer to yourself as a Dog. You are so much more than that. You saved me. You have served my family well and proved yourself." 

"Perhaps, but never enough to be worthy of you." 

She slipped around his large body to fit herself against his chest. She stood on her toes and kissed his lips. Softly at first, but quickly becoming more insistent. He was too surprised to respond for a moment, but soon he was kissing her back passionately. He lifted her up into his arms and held her against him tightly. 

She pulled away breathless from his lips. "Ask Bran for my hand." she begged. 

He wanted to tell her it was hopeless. That the Lords in the North would take offense at her marrying beneath her. But before he could respond, a large black crow flew down next to them, Cawing loudly. He stared at the bird for a moment, the creatures black eyes seemed to look straight into his soul. He suppressed a laugh, remembering the folk stories, that Bran Stark spent his time north of the wall learning to be a skin changer and could take the shape of the birds, or his wolf. The bird cawed at him again. 

He looked back at the woman in his arms, losing himself in the deep pools of her eyes, as they pleaded with him. Before he could help himself he nodded to her. She smiled and kissed him again. Neither of them noticed as the bird bowed his head briefly to them, before flying away. 

Back at Winterfell, Bran Stark opened his eyes and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful reviews I have gotten on my stories. I have written alot this last 6 months or so, and everyone has been so positive and encouraging and helpful. Its making me braver and more confident about posting my work and to continue writting. I am really enjoying it. :)


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